


Baby Panic

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: More than Meets the Eye
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mech Preg, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tailgate is having a sparkling. He can't keep himself from panicking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Panic

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote about Chromedome and Rewind having a baby, so it was only necessary that I give Tailgate and Cyclonus one.

Tailgate gave short, panicky vents as he left medbay, stumbling along as he went, his processor in a daze. The news Ratchet had given him was not good - not good at all.

The minibot had been feeling off for a few orns now - his equilibrium was out of whack, his spark casing was constantly itching, and his recharge was periodically disrupted. At first, he had thought it was just a harmless virus, and had thought to let his software take care of it, but, when the symptoms persisted, he finally gathered his courage and decided to visit Ratchet.

And the prognosis was not good: he was sparked.

Tailgate stopped for a moment, resting his backstrut against the wall as he struggled to get his vents under control.  _What was he going to do?_  He had no idea how to care for a sparkling, never even thought about having one to begin with. And the thought of having one inside of him right now - nestled right next to his spark. The thought was enough to send Tailgate into another panic, and he held his vents until the feeling passed.

Shuttering his optics, he slid down the wall until he came to be curled up on the floor. He waited a while until his over emotional processor calmed and thought about his situation.

The good news was he knew who the sire was. Perhaps, he could start there. Surely Cyclonus would know what to do, right?

Nodding to himself, Tailgate gently lifted himself off the floor and bolted to their hab suite before he lost his nerve.

~

Inside the room, Cyclonus was quietly reading his datapad, lounging on his berth. Today was one of his few days of relaxation; no one to call him off to do some asinine task, and no Tailgate to bother him.

Cyclonus sighed contentedly, sinking further into the berth. Tailgate had disappeared a few joors ago, leaving Cyclonus alone in solitude. If he was honest with himself, Cyclonus missed the presence of the little bot, but was too engrossed in his datapad to really mind his absence.

Cyclonus’ private time was interrupted, however, but the frantic yelps of Tailgate entering the room and Cyclonus set down his datapad with a groan. He sat up, staring down at the smaller bot, who looked as if he was not far from having a panic attack.

Cyclonus growled. “What is it Tailgate?”

Tailgate gave a noticeable shiver, his servos jittery at his side. He gave a deep ex-vent to calm himself, before explaining . “Well, I-I…went to see R-Ratchet today cause I’ve been feeling weird these past few orns a-and…” Tailgate trailed off, wringing his hands as he tried to find the best way to word the next part.

“And what?” snapped Cyclonus impatiently.

Tailgate gasped, jumping in his spot, deciding that the bluntest option was probably the best. “He said I’m sparked.”

Cyclonus cycled his optics, slumping on the berth as he released an ex-vent. “Well, congratulations, Tailgate. I wasn’t even aware that you were seeing someone. Now may I please return to my reading?” Not waiting for a reply, Cyclonus onlined his pad, going back to his earlier position on the berth.

“B-but Cyclonus, you don’t understand. It’s yours!” blurted out Tailgate, grabbing the purple mech by the arm. Cyclonus growled again, glaring down at Tailgate’s servo, and Tailgate quickly removed it as if burned.

“That is impossible. We have never interfaced,” stated Cyclonus, his optics trailing back to his datapad with finality.

Tailgate seemed to blanch behind his mask and visor, visibly taken aback. “But we did…don’t you remember? It was about 12 orns ago.” Although Tailgate did remember some high-grade being involved sometime during that nightcycle, Tailgate remembered it as clear as day. It was like a dream come true, with Cyclonus completely dominating him and Tailgate enjoying every moment of it. The minibot gave a subtle shiver at the memory.

Cyclonus bristled. “We did no such things.”

“We did, though. Heh, I guess you don’t remember. You did have a lot of high-grade that cycle,” Tailgate shuffled, dejectedly looking at the floor. “Well, even if you don’t remember, will you still help me? It’s just…I’m so scared and I don’t know what to do and everytime I think about it, I feel a panic coming on.” Tailgate’s venting hitched on his last words, as if to emphasise his point.

Cyclonus glanced at him, a brow ridge raised. He studied the smaller mech for a bit before nodding. “I guess.”

Tailgate gave a happy trill before leaping on top of Cyclonus, nuzzling his mask against the bigger mech’s neck cables. Cyclonus groaned in response, a part of him instantly regretting his decision.


End file.
